


I Found My Way (Right Time, Wrong Place.)

by madassrabbits



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Cheating, Confrontation, Fluff, HOOOOOO BOY, M/M, Medium Length, Oneshot, PORTLAND!!!!!!!, Slow Burn, joshler oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:32:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5077918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madassrabbits/pseuds/madassrabbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody ever teaches you what it's like to fall in love with your best friend. There are no instructions. No warning labels. No "For Dummies" guide. It's something you have to realize yourself. It's something you have to deal with yourself. It's fucking - It's fucking terrifying. You pretend it's something else, or you assume it's something else, or don't even see it at all. It's a process, I think.<br/>	It took me a long time to realize just how much I loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Found My Way (Right Time, Wrong Place.)

It would be difficult to pinpoint the moment Tyler and Josh's relationship went from platonic to romantic. Maybe there was no one single moment. Really, it was more likely a series of moments; a touch lingering too long, a secret smile shared in a public setting, laying across one another while watching a movie, them doing couple things without realizing that they were doing couple things.  
And one could say that's the biggest aspect of it: these two were simply always a couple. From the moment they met. They played music together, shared clothing, beds, food, even quick chaste kisses on the forehead at private times; they'd play with each other's hair, hug long and tight after shows (and sometimes before) and all of it happened without much thought.  
The steady, reliable progression of the relationship between Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph was probably one of the most fascinating and heartbreaking things for me to observe, in my life, ever.  
\---  
i <3 u  
i <3 u too! sweet dreams  
gnight!  
With that, I shut my phone off and placed it by my bed. Tour. Tourtourtour. Fuck tour. They'd be together 24/7, and it was all I could think about. They'd be up on stage every night, performing their hearts out for thousands. They loved it - they loved the energy, from the crowd, from the music, from one another. Josh once tried to explain to me the feeling that he gets onstage:  
"Better than anything - it's like being high, it's like flying, or something, I just become a part of the beat and a part of the music and a part of the words, and it's like you're invisible and visible to everyone at the same time-"  
"Better than sex?" I had asked coyly, wanting to tease him.  
"Well - no. No. It's just different. They're two totally different things."  
Were they really.  
I took a deep breath, shutting out the images in my brain. I'd never had that feeling, the one that he described to me at 3AM over the phone one drunk weekend some months ago. I'd never felt like I was flying, or high, or something when I performed. I performed too sometimes, I was putting together a band. I was never going to be as successful. Josh was just different, I told myself, the crowds were always bigger and more alive at their concerts.  
And really, I wasn't wrong about that. I'd been to their concerts before, probably almost a dozen. Those concerts seemed to be so powerful. The crowd was always like a sponge, soaking up whatever those two would put out. It was a rush, to be at the front, to scream along to the words and to jump along to the beat. Twenty One Pilots was an incredible band that put on an incredible show, with incredible fans that loved them like nothing else - and I used to enjoy it all so much more.  
More, like when Josh could make serious eye contact with Tyler up there and it'd mean nothing to me; like when Tyler dedicated a song to Josh it didn't feel like a personal attack - like when at the end they stood together and bowed I didn't notice the way Josh's hand hovered at the small of Tyler's back a little too long. Everything they did, everything I ever saw of them together - especially up there - felt directed at me.  
And it wasn't, it was just the opposite. It was directed away from me. I don't even know precisely when they realized they were doing it on purpose. But as soon as they were, they were trying to keep it secret.  
Who knows the first time Josh slid a hand behind Tyler's neck and pressed a long, drawn-out kiss to his cheek. But that's what I saw at the last show I went to, a secret exchange in a dressing room backstage. I walked in right into the room in the middle of it, out of sheer defiance, but they'd noticed and broken apart before I could pretend to have seen it.  
I did, though. I saw it.  
I think the first time I saw anything was six months ago. Josh and I had been dating for almost a year by then - and it was at a night in at Tyler's house, with Mark and Tyler's girlfriend at the time, Jenna. (They broke up later that week after a six-month-long relationship. I still wonder if she saw anything too.) The boys were glued to each other, almost. We were watching some movie, some shitty X-Files remake, probably, and they just... were acting like two boyfriends. And it wasn't in any sort of deliberate, we're-playing-a-prank-on-you-by-acting-like-we're-in-a-relationship thing, they just were that way. It shocked me - how long had they been acting this way? Was it at all deliberate? Were they just really, really good friends? By then, the lines in my mind between platonic and romantic had been blurred so intensely when it came to them - without my even knowing - that it just struck me then. They were essentially a couple. They really were at that point. For how long before then, I still don't know.  
Then eventually it stopped. All of a sudden, all the odd behavior (that had been going on for weeks at that point,) all the unnecessary touches, all the things you wouldn't normally see between two guys in a platonic relationship were gone. There was no "We realized we were totally being weird so we stopped." speech, nor a mass text or informative email of the same gist. We were in no way notified that the two boys had decided to stop, so at the time I thought it wasn't deliberate.  
For a number of weeks, actually, I thought that the whole thing was something that I had imagined up. I reflected on it enough that I decided that it was just me projecting my insecurities onto their relationship. I thought that Tyler and Josh were just bros, who had always been bros, who were always going to be just bros, and that I was the weird clingy girlfriend who thought something else of it.  
Funny enough, I wasn't, and Tyler and Josh were most certainly something other than just bros. Bros first and foremost, perhaps, but with secret cheek-kissing and long hugs and nights in with just the two of them cuddled in bed watching a movie marathon. The shift from public affection to private affection happened quickly, but clearly the affection itself hadn't faded at all - And instead of me seeing them all over each other every day, I only caught glimpses of it when they thought they were totally alone.  
The first time I caught them together in secret was three months ago. I remember at the time it had hit me so hard that I thought I was hallucinating. It was by then that I'd convinced myself that this whole ordeal was a figment of my imagination - and that what I was seeing before me couldn't possibly, ever be real. They were there, though, curled up together on the couch on the tour bus, Josh whispering softly into Tyler's ear as they watched something on TV. Tyler had this blissed-out expression on his face, all bundled up within Josh's arms. It was horrific for me to watch. They looked so serene and calm, fixated on one another moreso than whatever they were watching. For a split second they had looked right. Like this was how they were supposed to be. I told myself it wasn't true - what kind of fucked-up thought is that? - but it still shook me to my core. This was my boyfriend. My boyfriend. Curled up with his bandmate in the back of their tour bus, speaking softly to him and running his fingers up and down his side. It was wrong. It was wrong, it was cruel and unfair, it was disloyal to me, and in the end after slipping away and crying by myself for a solid half hour, I did nothing about it.  
Absolutely nothing. And it's not like it didn't haunt me for weeks. It's not like I didn't see myself almost walk in on them again week after week, something inside compelling me just to leave them be. I think it was partly because I thought it would be easier to cope with it than to confront them. I felt threatened by the bond they had, like whatever affection Josh had ever shown me was fake and that if I ever confronted him about this, he'd hate me.  
It was pretty fucking stupid, looking back on it. I was worried about my boyfriend, whom was actively cheating on me, potentially hating me. I should have broken up with him on the spot. I should have yelled and screamed and thrown shit at him, because this was so wrong. It was so deceitful towards me. He really didn't deserve a scrap of my attention, but I ignored everything I saw between him and Tyler because I was that desperate to keep him. I still don't know why I was desperate to keep him.  
And it's not like I've done anything about it, at this point. I'm lying in bed right now, still quietly wanting Josh Dun to care about me the way that he cares about Tyler Joseph. Of course, I've considered that whatever weird relationship they have might just be physical, might just be Josh's need to comfort Tyler when he's going through his episodes. I've thought about that, but I don't believe it. Would they hide it so much? Would it be so constant and... loving? Because I believe that they love each other. I believe that Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph are in love with each other, and that my boyfriend has chosen his bandmate over me. It's not a realization that's been in a short time coming, anyways. I think since the day I saw them on the couch in the dark with the TV on I knew. That's just the truth of them. As much as I hate it, and as much as I feel betrayed and deceived and completely cast aside, it's just... how it is.  
\---  
It would be difficult to pinpoint the moment the relationship between Josh and I went from platonic to romantic. Maybe there was no one single moment. Really, it was more likely a series of moments; a touch lingering too long, a secret smile shared in a public setting, laying across one another while watching a movie, us doing couple things without realizing that we were doing couple things.  
And one could say that's the biggest aspect of it: we were simply always a couple. From the moment we met. we played music together, shared clothing, beds, food, even quick chaste kisses on the forehead at private times; we'd play with each other's hair, hug long and tight after shows (and sometimes before) and all of it happened without much thought.  
The steady, reliable progression of the relationship between Josh and I was the most inevitable and most wonderful thing that's happened to me, in my life, ever.  
"Hey." He'd said to me, hovering inches above my face.  
"What-" I stuttered, half-asleep. Josh was right over me, blinking. "Hm?" I asked. The smell of aftershave and sweat lingered in the air.  
"Soundcheck." He said. His face was but a blur to me.  
"Alright, just lemme-" I said, starting to sit up. I rubbed my eyes. He had just woken me, what was he-  
"Wait." He said, placing a hand on my chest firmly.  
That jolted me awake. "What?" I asked, eyes going wide. It was a sudden shift of dominance over me, my chest felt burning hot where his fingers were. After a blank silence I managed a "What, Josh?" I could hear my own breathing.  
His hand remained there, stiff and almost protective, nervous. He was looking at me intently.  
"Dunno." He said after a moment. "I just." He took his hand away. I watched him put it back at his side. There was something about the way he was looking at me.  
"What." I demanded, not angrily - anxious and interested and now very much awake.  
"You're just. Fluffy this morning." He burst into a grin, somehow releasing all the tension between us in a second.  
It took me a second but I grinned right back. "That's it? I'm fluffy? Dude, I need to get up." I was half on the bunk and half off of it, wearing only a t-shirt and boxers; somewhat eager to get past whatever just happened between us. "What time is it."  
He wasn't paying attention, now looking at my hair. "It's so messy." I watched his hand almost reach out to touch me. Something like fire pooled in my gut.  
"Yeah?" I asked, now ignoring my need to get out of bed. What was he doing? What was-  
"It's 11:00." He said suddenly, looking right at me as if he'd totally reset.  
"Oh, right, yeah-"  
"Yeah, sorry - it's.."  
"No, it's fine it's-"  
"Yeah." He laughed nervously after a second and turned to go.  
I didn't really get what he'd just done, but he did something. My hands shook as I pulled on my jeans, and my chest felt on fire where his hand had been.

"Goodness, I hate snakes."  
"I had a pet snake when I was like, nine." I said through a mouthful of cheetos.  
"Really?" He asked, turning away from the television to look at me.  
I nodded, still chewing thoughtfully. "His name was Jeremy. And he only lived a few months."  
"Zach?" Josh asked, and I knew exactly what he meant.  
"Zach." I confirmed, laughing. My brother had "forgotten" to feed him. "I was devastated."  
"I'm sure." He looked down at his feet, which were laying across the table we'd dragged in front of the couch.  
I felt the sudden need to continue the conversation. "Why do you hate snakes?" We were watching a National Geographic documentary on giant pythons found in Florida at the moment, in the dark, alone in the back of the tour bus. He'd gasped quietly a few times, shoulders tense. I had pretended not to notice, but it was cute.  
"Dunno, they just... They make me really uncomfortable. I feel like animals should have legs." He shot me a look, like he knew how dumb it was, and I burst out laughing.  
"Do you hate... say, millipedes?" I asked. "Don't they have like, a million legs? They fit your specifications." I watched the way the light from the television landed on his face in the dark. His hair was newly dyed pink, and even though I liked his hair best natural, it really worked. He turned his head to look back at me and I darted my eyes away.  
"No, I think they're just as bad as snakes... They have a lot of legs, but they still look like snakes. I think animals should have maybe... four legs. Give or take."  
"What about two?" I asked, moving my legs from the table in front of us into his lap obnoxiously.  
"That's fine." He crinkled his nose, grabbing my foot and attempting to move it away. "Would be fine if your feet didn't stink."  
"They smell fine!" I said, feigning anger.  
"You realize, that when we're on tour, literally everything stinks."  
I threw a cheeto at him."Yeah."  
Maintaining eye contact, he picked up the cheeto - which had fallen on the floor - and put it in his mouth.  
"Great, Josh. That's just. Something. Right there."  
"You could actually give me some, if you don't want me to get a virus."  
I scootched up towards him with the bag and put one in his mouth coyly.  
"Romantic, huh?" He said.  
"I'm feeding you cheetos."  
He grabbed the bag from me and reciprocated. I took the cheeto willingly. "We should totally do the thing where we link arms and tip our heads back like we're taking shots."  
"Except cheetos."  
"Exactly."  
We did just that, stuffing fingerfuls of them in our mouths, laughing as we broke apart.  
"Cheetos are really gross, honestly." He leaned back into the cushion, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. I'd seen him do that same thing countless times on the drums, often shirtless, the muscles in his abdomen-  
"I disagree. I think they're like chips, but better." I said quickly. "Also, there's a friendly cheetah on the package." I pointed to the character on the side of the bag, comically serious.  
He looked me in the eye for a second, amused, before reaching out and tickling me. "Alright, get outta my space-"  
"Oh, for fuck's sake-" I tried not to hurt him as I squirmed away out of his reach. Eventually I gave in and laughed, and he grinned really big, and I moved my legs out of his space, but internally something had clicked. Or snapped. I don't know what it was. Just that the back of my neck felt very, very hot.  
Time passed. We watched more about snakes. Half the time I was watching Josh; the way that the colored lights hit his face. Something about that transfixed me. I didn't hesitate to move my legs back to his lap when he invited me to.  
"Hey." Josh said, his voice pulling me away from the TV after a while.  
"Yeah." I said, popping another cheeto in my mouth. The bag was almost empty.  
"No - I mean, look at me."  
I didn't know what to expect, all I knew is that the burning sensation was back. And so I looked at him. And it turns out that I had been right - something had snapped. Josh was looking at me for permission, poised, almost, a hand out towards me. At first I didn't understand, but it looked like he was asking to... Hug me?  
I sat there, cheeto in mouth, dumbfounded and completely unsure of what he was attempting to convey. "What." I said, trying to hide the fact that the back of my neck felt on fire again.  
"C'mere." Was all he said.  
"What."  
"I mean, come towards me. As in: forward. This way." He was now beckoning with both arms, leaning forward and grinning like an idiot.  
I think that was all I needed. "Alright, yeah." I said quietly, already moving towards him. "Yeah, what."  
He looked completely sincere, like I was being dumb for not catching on, eyes lit up brilliantly by the glowing light of the television. I was fixated. "Wanna hug you." He said it like it was nothing; like I was dumb for second guessing him.  
I blinked, the burning sensation of my neck now joined by a pounding heartbeat. "Like, just."  
"Wanna fucking cuddle, Tyler." He almost laughed.  
"Right, yeah. Right." And that was all I needed. Reaching forward tentatively, I slid into his arms, testing the waters, and he pulled me in tight and safe and good, and hell, I pressed my cheek to his neck and breathed him in, and he smelled like sweat and aftershave and mint shampoo. And I'm not sure what compelled him to ask me to hug him, or why I didn't say no, or why it was so good and so... not weird, but Josh had me.  
"Hey." He whispered. Really, I was kneeling on either side of his legs, straddling him, and he had his arms beneath mine and his face pressed against my neck and he tugged a bit so that I was really just sitting on him, and. Alright. Okay.  
"Wh." I mumbled against his shirt. He was warm, and the background noise of the TV sounded warm too.  
"Hey." He said again simply. I could hear the smile in his voice. I was also smiling.  
"Hey." I said back. I could get used to this.  
"Love you."  
Something caught at the back of my throat.  
He must have felt me tense, because he said quietly, a grin in his voice; "Not in love with you, Tyler, but I love you."  
Right. I relaxed a bit. "Love you too."  
We never... Showed this much affection, even in private. We showed a whole lot more in private than onstage or even during interviews, but nothing like this, nothing that really blurred the line between friendship and something more. It, in all honesty, was terrifying. And extraordinary.  
The television kept playing, and we sat there, entangled. Eventually we relaxed into each other completely. I don't know whether we fell asleep or not. I just remember feeling warm, straight down to my core.

"Hey, asshole." I said, eyes landing on him as he entered the dressing room.  
He cocked an eyebrow and walked right over, taking no time to place a sloppy kiss on my cheek. "You ready?" He asked, running a hand through his long-faded, now almost silver hair.  
"Dunno. Playing around with song ideas." I rotated the rolling chair I was sat in back and forth.  
He nodded, this was usual. I always had something running through my brain right before we went on. I watched as he adjusted his hair in the mirror, squinting at his reflection.  
"You look nice today." I said after a moment. It was a calculated comment.  
He smiled down at me in my chair, hand still in his hair. "I know."  
I grinned right back. "You know it's only okay when I say it."  
He reached down and planted another kiss on my cheek, this time cupping a hand behind my neck. I hummed in approval. His lips were warm, he smelled like peppermint. It would be so easy just to turn my head a little-  
Someone knocked on the door, and we broke apart suddenly. The door had been shut and we had returned to normal positions before whomever it was got a glimpse. It felt cold where his hand had been, and moisture lingered on my cheek.  
"Debby, hey." Josh said, the warmth in his voice unsettling to me. He'd gone over and started talking to her before I could turn back around in my chair. I took my phone off the counter and messed around with it as I spun around.  
"Hey." Debby said to me, over his shoulder.  
I nodded back to her, a polite smile and a brief glance all I was willing to offer. I quietly turned back around to face the mirror, just in time to see Josh sliding a hand behind her neck and press a long, drawn-out kiss to her cheek.  
Alright.

\---

Nobody ever teaches you what it's like to fall in love with your best friend. There are no instructions. No warning labels. No "For Dummies" guide. It's something you have to realize yourself. It's something you have to deal with yourself. It's fucking - It's fucking terrifying. You pretend it's something else, or you assume it's something else, or don't even see it at all. It's a process, I think.  
It took me a long time to realize just how much I loved him.

"C'mere. C'mon." I said, beckoning him and laughing.  
"Ugh,-" He buried his face in his hands, hiding the redness appearing across his cheeks.  
Something dangerous roared up in me at the sight of him like that. I told myself it was the alcohol and shifted deeper into the leather couch cushion. "It's just a game." I offered another smile and a hand out to him.  
Mark and Zach looked on, laughing quietly. I bit into my bottom lip, eyes wavering. He really didn't want to-  
"Alright, what do we do.." I heard him shifting, and he was close to me now, eyes staring up at me like two big brown pools.  
I tried to sound indignant, a little bit drunk - which I was, for the record. "It's gay chicken. What do you think we do."  
"Right, we go to kiss, and-  
"And whoever backs off is the chicken."  
He blinked, and started to lean in; I wasn't ready, but I leaned forward on reflex anyways. It was only then I realized Mark and Zach weren't laughing anymore. Neither were either of us. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as his left hand moved upwards slowly, hovering over my shoulder. I ignored the burning sensation crawling along the back of my neck. We were close, so close to one another.  
Only then did he snap back, a dumb grin on his face, shaking his head. Mark and Zach burst out laughing again too. I grinned back, but internally I was lost for words. My chest felt on fire.  
I bit into my bottom lip again and laughed along with them.

The girl cleared her throat, looking at her clipboard again awkwardly. I bounced my leg. This interview had been hell. "I mean, you guys are, um, together quite a lot," She said. I tensed slightly. What kind of interview question- "I mean - I guess you have the crew and everything, but-" My focus only broke away from the interviewer when Tyler's hand was suddenly on my knee, squeezing gently. Acknowledgement. "It's probably different when you have a band-"  
A squeezing sensation introduced itself to my upper torso, warm and burning and something like the sun. It surprised even me. Quickly, but not rushed, I reached over and rubbed his shoulder, letting my hand linger.  
Us, is what he was saying. We were something worth breaking out of his shell for. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him grin at his feet.  
Later I sent that interviewer, and that question, a whole lot of blessings.

Nothing compared to the feeling I got onstage. Better than anything - it was like being high, it was like flying, or something, I just became a part of the beat and a part of the music and a part of the words, and it's like I was invisible and visible to everyone at the same time.  
I used to believe it was my peak. Nothing could be better than the power, the electric energy I got to experience every night onstage. Really, I was wrong. Nothing compared to the feeling I got watching Tyler onstage. And that - that took me a while to understand.  
I say the best advice he ever gave me was to hit my drums harder, but really the greatest thing he ever gave me was what he gave to the crowd every time we went up there. I got to witness it, I got to hear it, I got to be a part of it - like an extension of him. I got to be an extension of him, his words, his music, his mind. I got to be an us. We were an indivisible unit of two whenever we were up there. We needed each other up there.  
After our best show (Irving Plaza, New York, December 4th, 2013) I practically dragged him backstage after the encore, lifted him up and spun him around in my arms, us both sweaty as hell and laughing like little kids. I drunkenly snuck in kiss on his forehead that night. He didn't care, we were both high off the energy still. I found us, me in particular, sharing a lot more affection before and after shows, when we really felt the us, us, us feeling that comes with sharing something as personal as our music. At certain shows it took a certain willpower not to hop off the drums and go over there and just hug him, or fucking, kiss him, or something. To let him know that we really are something up there.  
The best point of every night was when I'd get down from the drums after the last song of the set and we'd stand side by side, glowing. We'd bow, and we'd grin, and I'd feel the sheen of sweat along his arm where he had one wrapped around me, pressing tightly into my side I only had to look to the left to see his beaming face. I think that moment in particular really made me fall in love with him.  
And really, it happened almost every night.  
We really started giving each other more when the kissing became a normal thing. We'd gotten to the point where cuddling up on the couch on top of one another was a normal, routine thing, where hugging and touching and nuzzling were completely in-bounds, and where he'd often fall asleep on top of me and I'd either carry him to his bunk or sacrifice a good night's sleep of my own just to keep us close.   
I never tried to think too hard about any of this. I never wanted it to go too fast, or to end up somewhere we weren't ready to be. And I think the slow descent into it is part of what tricked me into not seeing it there at all. I never really thought of him and I as completely separate units. It was always us, us, us. We worked that way. It was natural to grow closer to him; nothing in me was alarmed when the physical affection got more intense. Nothing on the surface, at least.  
Whenever he'd doze off half laying on me or with his head near to mine I'd place a gentle kiss on the top of his head, or his forehead, or nose, or cheek. Sometimes he'd notice, I think, and a tiny smile would appear on his lips. Sometimes he'd be completely passed out. One time he returned the kiss to my shoulder. I think that's when I knew it was definitely okay. After that, whenever we'd be alone, a kiss to the cheek or nose was an acceptable form of greeting. Sometimes just passing through I'd sneak over and plant one on his forehead. He'd smile or hum in response and next chance he got he'd return the kiss. I guess it was sort of a game of tag. I loved it. I never went for the lips though, as much as I wondered about what it'd be like - that would mean we'd have to talk about it.   
I had no desire to talk about it. And, I mean, it's not like it didn't dawn on me eventually that we did have some seriously romantic tendencies - I wasn't stupid. But again, nothing compelled me to stop. Nothing about it aside from the fact that I was terrified. I was terrified of what this meant for us, what this mean about me, about him, what this would do to the band. What it meant for me and Debby. I guess there were lots of things compelling me to stop. Just that none of them were strong enough.   
So we just kept it quiet.  
Keeping it quiet was difficult, but it also meant that I didn't have to break up with Debby. That in particular was something I didn't want to go through, and more importantly something I didn't want her to have to go through. Jenna leaving Tyler those months ago was rough enough on the both of us. Tyler never really told me the real reasons for her breaking up with him so suddenly as she did, but I'm pretty sure it was because of me.  
I felt bad for a little while. Maybe a week.  
We never went past that point. I don't know if it was because he didn't want to; that he felt comfortable in this pseudo-romantic/platonic limbo we were in or if he thought taking it any farther would be wrong, or... gay, or that would cause problems with me and Debby. It would be the last two of those things on that list. I still didn't really know exactly where Tyler stood on the whole homophobia spectrum, but considering the fact that he let his best friend kiss him on the cheek and would fall asleep on top of him every other night, he'd probably become a little more lenient.  
Once I'd fallen, and I mean really fallen for him - as in hard, I used to bother myself by wondering whether or not Tyler still considered us just friends. It used to keep me up at night. Where did we stand? Did we count as a couple? Was every ounce of affection he showed me meant as only platonic? What if I was all worked up over... nothing? Eventually I decided that it didn't matter, because I loved him. And in whatever way, he loved me back. He'd hold my hand and kiss me and lay on top of me and tell me dumb jokes and I never had any trouble making him smile or giggle and it didn't matter that it was some sort of weird situation where we didn't talk about what we had despite the fact that we definitely had... something. I mean, part of me wanted to talk about it, to create a sort of understanding or agreement, to acknowledge the problems it might cause, but I was afraid of scaring him off.  
I decided it was just better to leave us this way

\---  
It's dumb, but Mr. Brightside was right.  
"Listen! Debby, fuck -"  
I wasn't going to listen. I watched him stutter.  
"It's just - you're not listening to me! I'm trying to explain this to you, it's not-"  
"No!" I said suddenly, throwing my hands into the air. "Listen? Listen? Really, Josh? I've spent... I've spent almost two years, two whole fucking years... Listening to you. I spent.. I spent over half that time hiding the fact that I knew about you and Tyler. Whatever the fuck it is that you two have, whatever kind of fucked up-"  
"It's not like that!"  
"You kiss him!"   
"We're not like that - I don't.. I don't have sex with him-"  
"I'd sure fucking hope not! Especially since you have a girlfriend! You better not be having sex with him, oh my god! I can't believe I'm even still - I can't fucking believe that you're this incredulous-You know what? You fucking had, a girlfriend, you had-"  
He paled, yet managed to cut me off. "You're breaking up with me?" His words were indignant, yet pitiful.  
"You bet your cheating, lying ass I am!" I tried to inject venom into my words. Only now was I confronting him - after months and months of this. I couldn't even say that it shocked me anymore, the thought that they did this, or had this, but confronting him about it made it all the worse. Made me realize just how long I had been heartbroken over this, how long I'd held onto it, internalizing it. I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve any of it, and it had taken me so damn long to finally act upon that knowledge. He had no right to be indignant.  
"You know what, Josh? I should have broken up with you years ago. I should have- I should have cut you off the night I saw you and Tyler on that fucking couch, back in March, with you... You playing with his hair, you fucking cuddling with him, whispering things to-"  
"You saw that?"  
"Yes! Yes I did! Fuck, Josh, I've seen so much! You have no idea!" I was almost laughing now - he really had no idea how much I'd witnessed, he fucking thought that he could keep it a secret-  
He'd gone quiet. "You weren't." He said. "You - You weren't supposed to see any of it."  
"Right?" I asked, really laughing now, crying too. "Right? 'Cause you didn't want to.. Hurt me, or anything? Is that it?"  
I watched him swallow - slowly, solemnly, gaze flicking to the ground. He did seem sorry, but too late. Way to late, too fucking late-  
"No." He said, completely earnest. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know - I didn't know what I felt, or didn't feel, for Tyler, and we just... I just needed to see-"  
"You needed to try things out? See how it felt to be romantically involved with your best friend? You just needed to give it a fucking trial run?"  
"Well - Kind of, yeah."  
He was lying. He was a dirty fucking liar, I saw the way he stuttered his answer, the way he'd always looked at Tyler, the way that he kissed him. It wasn't a little experiment, he was in fucking love with Tyler, and I didn't know why I had even asked the question; I already knew the answer.  
"You're a fucking liar, Josh."  
He looked up at me, ashamed, embarrassed, gutted, you name it. He'd been rubbed raw. I'd finally fucking exposed him.  
I didn't feel a single twinge of pity.  
Part of me felt bad about that - most of me was glad when I turned on my heel and left.  
Another part of me knew that we'd both end up happier because of it.  
\---  
"Tyler." I croaked, standing in the cramped bunk space of the tour bus. I knew he was at least half awake. "Wake up."  
I heard a groan from inside his bunk. Slowly, I pulled back the curtain. "I made us coffee."  
"Is everyone gone?" His hair was a fluffy mess, his voice dry.  
"Mark's gone, Brad is out with the crew exploring the city. They should be back soon, we have soundcheck in less than an hour."  
"What time is it?" He asked.  
I'd turned away to go get my own coffee. "Late. Almost 11." I spoke.  
"What time did we go to bed last night?"  
I took a sip. "You were up until two, I was probably more like four." I lied.  
I watched him frown. "I thought you said you were going to bed too."  
"Doesn't matter. I just couldn't really sleep."  
We made eye contact, his eyes full of knowing. Part of me hated it. "It doesn't matter-" I began.  
"Yes it does, Josh, you can't just.. I know how you feel. Or felt, whatever. But you can't be irresponsible with your health like this."  
I frowned. "I'm fine. I got up before you did. You're the one who needed to be woken up."  
"Yeah, but you haven't slept properly in like, a week." I watched him sit up, throwing his legs over the side of the bunk and rubbing his eyes. "You need to take care of yourself."  
I would have frowned again, but I heard genuine concern in his voice. "Tyler." I said. "I'm really-"  
He cut me off with his gaze. "Don't play around with me." He was suddenly very serious. "You wouldn't talk about what happened with you and Debby, not with Mark, not with me... We haven't talked about it. You refused."  
"What if I didn't want to talk about it?" I tried to ignore the way his challenge startled me.  
"You always talk with me. We used to talk all the time, we used to-"  
"We used to do a lot of things, Tyler." I said it plain and simple and forceful; like a fact, like something that didn't affect me. "But we've moved on."  
He was silent, staring at me, for a long moment. "You moved on. At least you acted like you did." He had his shoulders almost hunched, arms stiff against the side of the bunk beside his legs, eyes up at me. Surrender, almost. His words were a confession and a challenge all rolled into one.  
A confession I didn't have time for. "Drink your coffee." I said. He was right about me not getting enough sleep, but he didn't really know the half of it. He was still more tired than me, though - I didn't need sleep to function anymore. I didn't want it.  
He took the mug and sipped slowly. "We used to be different, Josh."  
I wasn't surprised by his candor. And I nodded, because he was right. His brown eyes were still pinned on me. "I know." I said. "We were."

"Can I add this to the snapchat-"  
"Yes." He said, eyes laughing. I watched him lean back in his chair from over my phone. A small smile appeared on my lips.  
"I was about to ask, what city is this." He said, "But there are these signs everywhere." His gaze was fixed on a sign across the street from us. Portland.  
"It's one of my favorite cities." I said, still typing. "My cousins used to live up here. We'd see them every summer."  
He looked at me thoughtfully, still leaning back with his elbows up on the back of his chair. "I didn't know that."  
I smiled. "Yeah, Connor and Chelsea-"  
"The ones with the dog."  
"The dog!" I laughed, and he was grinning at me. "Yeah, Rufus. Great dog." I put down my phone and took a sip of my drink. He was nodding, looking off to the side.  
There was a moment of quiet. "What year was that?" He asked quietly, a sidelong gaze now being thrown my way.  
"What?"  
"Was it 2012, or 2013?" He held eye contact, looking deliberate. I felt the conversation shift.  
"What?" I repeated, tense.  
"When you kissed me. In Portland." His voice was steady, conversational. Like that was something that you could just say.  
"What." I paled. Did he really have to? "No, that was, Tyler-"   
"2012, you think?" He asked, feigning curiosity.  
My fists clenched. I wouldn't respond. Whenever he brought something like this up I was ready to burst. He knew that I'd moved along, that I wasn't going to let-  
"No, 'cause I'm pretty sure that was 2013." He looked thoughtful now, but it was purely mocking. "No, no! It was January 12th, 2013!" A smile appeared. "It was right after the show, the same venue in Portland we're playing tonight! We were backstage together, you just came right over! And you-"  
"Tyler-" My jaw was tight.  
"What?"  
"You could be civil-"  
He quirked an eyebrow, straw between his lips, mockingly casual. "What? They're just Portland memories, Josh. Like your cousins. Just something that happened. You know that I don't mean anything by it." He paused. "Unless you mean something-"  
"Tyler-" I was bristling with anger. "You can't - cant' just bring that up."  
His lips parted, eyebrows still up there. "I don't see what the issue is. It's simply a memory, Josh. If you've really moved on, then what's the issue with any of-"  
"Because I know that you haven't!" I snapped.  
He went quiet, gaze steady. I was right. His little charade to get me worked up was likely over. "You're right." He said simply, taking another sip of his drink. "I haven't." He shrugged as he put it down. "Now, if you'd like to open up about what happened with Debby, then maybe we could come to some sort of-"  
"Tyler." I said through gritted teeth. I knew this was what it was all leading to. "I'm not obligated to talk about anything that happened between her and I." I couldn't meet his gaze, my chest was burning.  
His expression changed, a thoughtful pout. "Maybe, but I think It would resolve things." His tone had changed too - He was really trying to get me to listen now. I wouldn't.  
"What really, really, would resolve things, is if you would stop bothering me about my personal life - about what happened with Debby - God, Tyler, it doesn't even affect you! Why do you-"  
"It does affect me." He cut me off, gaze sudden and intense. "Good lord, does it affect me."  
"Well-"  
"The day she broke up with you is the day you cut me off." He said, his tone sullen. His eyes didn't waver. They never seemed to waver.  
I was quiet for a moment. I took in a breath, made a decision. "Yes, because you and I-" I didn't want to finish the sentence. "You and I are what hurt her." My nails dug into the table. He was making me do this; making me spill my guts out for him. He had no right.  
His tongue ran over his bottom lip. "I know." He said. Finally, his gaze flicked down to the table. "We shouldn't have, not when you were with her. Not when-"  
"But for you it was just an experiment!" I exclaimed. I was almost laughing. He didn't have to bear half the guilt I did - at the time, I knew I wanted to be him, I wanted it like nothing else in the world, I was pursuing him deliberately, whereas he was just messing around with his friend -  
"Doesn't matter." He insisted. "We shouldn't have done what we did when you were with her-"  
"Exactly, case closed-" I rushed out, I knew he was about to object-  
"BUT-" He breathed out. Grudgingly, I let him continue. "You're only making things worse for me by cutting me off like this." He blinked, and I was looking at him. "And they're probably worse for you, too."  
I wasn't going to reply to that. I rubbed my face with my hands, exhaling. "History is going to repeat itself if we continue with whatever... we were doing, Tyler." It was stupid of me to hope he didn't notice how hard this was for me to say.  
"As in, you're going to get with a girl, and she's going to find out, and it's going to break her heart?" He asked. "Because that could be avoided, Josh. History doesn't have to repeat itself."  
"What, so I just... Stop dating? And you do too? So that we can have our little affections?" I was growing more angry, he couldn't just expect me to give things up to please him, to sacrifice potential relationships for the sake of whatever we had.  
His eyes flickered with something, like hurt, like confusion. "No, Josh." He spoke steadily. "As in, we don't stop dating people."  
"Then what, Tyler?" I snapped. What was he suggest-  
"As in we date each other."  
He must have seen my pupils dilate.  
\---  
"We are Twenty One Pilots, and so are you!" He shouted, a brilliant grin on his face. I watched the glisten in his eye, my arm wrapped around his waist.  
In perfect unison, we bowed, stayed there for 1... 2... and we were back up, the crowd was roaring, the lights were blinding, he was hot and sweaty against me, my mind was buzzed from the adrenaline, and nothing was more than this moment.  
Soon we'd dispersed off the stage, the crew suddenly busy with handling our stuff, the never-ending noise and light of the venue left behind us - traded in for the bustling dark of the backstage area. He had my hand, black paint smeared across our palms, and we were running, together, through the network of hallways, somewhere, and he knew where we were going. Both of our heads were ringing, laughter escaping our lungs. He knew where we were going. I didn't, but I trusted him more than anything.  
His sweat-soaked hair was sticking to his forehead. He hadn't cut it in a while. I was suddenly, arbitrarily glad of that.  
"Josh." He said, pushing us back into our dressing room. That's where we were. "Josh - "  
"What." I breathed, everything a blur but his face.  
"That was-" His hands were on my arms, and I'd never seen a more brilliant smile-  
"That was SO-" We were up against a wall, he was right there. "That was such a show-"  
I laughed, stupid with excitement, stupid with him. "I know, I know, I know, come here, come HERE, fuck-" I pulled him against me, and we were laughing so hard. I could feel him grinning against the side of my neck, his head must have been ducked, he was taller than me by three inches, three and a half according to him, and he always stood on his toes just a little whenever we measured ourselves, so it was definitely-  
"Josh." He breathed. Hometown shows and weed got us like this.  
"Yeah." I breathed back. That was me, that was my name, and he was saying it in such a way, wow.  
"Can we, fucking -" He pulled us away from the wall, loosening his grip on my shoulders. He looked straight at me. "That was such a show, that was such a fucking, show-"  
I nodded along, my heart was pounding. "I know, Tyler, god, Tyler, it's Cincinnati, fucking Cincinnati." There was probably tons of black paint all over my neck now, where he was touching me- "We've never played like that before." His white shirt was plastered to his chest, enough that I could see the tattoos there, beneath it.  
He nodded. "It was such- Josh, it was so good- It's so..." He was staring at me now, and we were there blabbing at each other and grinning because we wanted an excuse, god, we just wanted an excuse. He had his hands on my shoulders, more like my neck, his eyes were wide and his mouth was open, just slightly, lips parted-  
Enough with excuses.  
"Josh-"He breathed, before I cut him off in the only way I knew how.  
Nobody ever teaches you how to fall in love with your best friend, but I think I figured it out.


End file.
